


Secret New Years

by Rioghna



Series: Secret... [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:04:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rioghna/pseuds/Rioghna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Secret Santa", Belle is invited to spend New Year's Eve with Gold at his house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A quiet dinner for two...or something

Secret New Year

Belle looked at the small bag once more and triple checked that she had what she needed, not too much nor too little. She knew she shouldn't be this nervous. _It was only a date_ , she kept saying to herself, but it really was much more than that. She and Rum had been seeing each other for a few weeks, but they had been taking it very slow, partially because he was so very careful about her. After all, he owned most of the town and he had enemies, and while he was far more concerned with her reputation than she was, Belle was a little reluctant to share what they had, even with her close friends. Not that she was the least bit embarrassed, but living in Storybrooke was like living in a fishbowl. Everyone was in everyone's business, something she had forgotten when she was away at Uni. Belle wanted the two of them to have time to see how they felt before the rest of the town weighed in.

Not that no one knew.  Her father and Gaston, her not nearly ex enough, had been introduced to the idea at Christmas dinner, but neither of them would say anything. Her father, because he didn't want anyone to know. He and Gold had a long standing feud, though Belle had no idea what it was about, and had no interest in learning. Gaston was delusional enough to believe that some day she would consider getting back together with him, and also didn't want to think that she could prefer anyone to his brainless bulk.

Still, that had left Belle with a bit of a problem. She literally had nothing to wear to Rum's house for New Year's Eve. He had invited her to a private (just the two of them, four if you counted the kittens that had come to live with her at his instigation) celebration at his house and she wanted to look her best, even if no one else was going to see. Belle also had some pretty firm ideas about where she wanted the night to end up, and even if it didn't, she couldn't see herself sleeping the night at his house in her flannel pajama bottoms and tee shirt. That being said, her closest friend was one of the worst gossips in town. Belle loved Ruby dearly, but this was just not something she could take to her.  Besides, Ruby's idea of dress up was more party girl than private party.

Belle had ended up taking it to her other closest friend, Mary Margaret Blanchard, soon to be Nolan. "So, you have special plans.  They wouldn't happen to involve a certain older gentleman who owns half the town, would they?" the school teacher whispered.

"How..."

"David told me about the kittens, and well, I knew there was something different about you lately. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Even David doesn't believe it. But this does mean we need to get some shopping done, immediately."

Now Belle was waiting for Dove to knock. The kittens were in their carrier, not horribly happy, but taking it out on a couple of catnip mice. Rum had told her not to worry about bringing their things, so they only had a few favourite toys in her bag, and an extra bag of kitten treats, and the vitamins the vet had suggested because they had been abandoned.

She looked at the bag once more, and zipped it. That left her with nothing to do but tug at the form fitting dress. They had found it in the consignment shop in town, gold stretch velvet that fit like a glove. Mary Margaret declared it just the right combination of sexy and sophisticated and helped her with the hem (nothing was actually made for her height, she had been hemming clothes all her life). They had paired it with some emerald green pumps that were in the back of her closet from her last school formal, and a lace shawl that her friend loaned her. For the lingerie, they had gone out of town. It was better that way.

Dove arrived and took charge of both her bag and the cat carrier, which was the cue for the two little creatures to start calling to him for attention. Thus far, while the kittens favoured her and Rum, they had been generally all right with most people, after suitable observation. The exception had been Gaston, which she put down to good taste. The big man who worked for Gold had smiled and tickled them through the bars for a moment before taking everything to the car, and buckling the carrier next to her on the seat.

Belle could have walked to Gold's house. She didn't own a car. In a town of probably less than two thousand people, and only one commercial area, there just wasn't a lot of need. If she wanted to go somewhere else, she borrowed her father's car, or Ruby's. But Rum would not hear of it. "Too many people out who have started their party early, not to mention, what about the kittens?" he'd told her when they made plans. The advantage to New Year's Eve on Thursday was that it meant at least some of the people would be working, but not all. It also meant that Friday was a holiday, so there was no need for her to rush home this evening.

When they arrived at the house, Dove opened the door, and told her that he would attend the bags before urging her on. The big house was a lovely, moderate example of carpenter gothic Victorian architecture, and she had been dying to see the inside for years. No one she knew had ever been in, and in fact, Mary Margaret insisted that, as payment for the help, that Belle come out for coffee with her and tell her all about the house.

Rum was waiting at the door, clearly, as it opened the moment she got out of the car. Immediately she made her way up the steps to the porch and into his arms. He was wearing a black dress shirt and charcoal dress slacks with the brocade waistcoat she had gotten him for Christmas. She could tell he was making an effort, he was not wearing a tie, and as soon as she had kissed him hello, she reached up and unfastened the top two buttons, smiling at him.

"Come inside, sweetheart, let Dove get your things in. Then we can let the little imps out." The house smelled of the most delicious food and she saw through the door into the dining room which was set with fine china, crystal, candles, and flowers, but before she had the time to look closer, he was showing her where the butler's pantry now had the kitten's sandbox. In the kitchen, next to the pantry door, were two bowls for them, set on a mat with an electric kitty drinking fountain between.

 _If he's gone this far for the little ones..._ she thought, but cut it off before those thoughts raised her nerves.

"Would you like the grand tour before dinner?" Rum asked. He was smiling happily as she followed him into a comfortable room where a fire burned merrily in the grate, and she couldn't help but notice a fluffy cat bed next to the hearth rug. He seemed to have thought of everything. "Dove can let the little ones out, they should familiarize themselves with their new surroundings."

It was only seconds later and they had gotten as far as the front room, with him explaining his treasures to her, when the two black streaks caught up with them. Rumplesteazer had a catnip mouse and Mungo was chasing her to get it back. The two chased right past them, heading for the stairs. "They seem to be settling in quite well," Belle said.

"And you, what do you think of it?" he asked, slipping an arm around her.

"I think it's...perfect." He pulled her in for a kiss.

After the tour, (and ascertaining that they were alone, Dove having left after he released the cats), Rum suggested dinner. "Why don't you take your overnight bag upstairs while I get the food sorted," he suggested. "You can chose any bedroom. No pressure," he said as he kissed her one more time.

"No pressure," she agreed, but Belle knew exactly what she wanted. She left him alone in the kitchen while she slipped up the stairs. In the hallway, she found several rooms leading off the central hallway. One contained a bathroom, a large claw footed tub sittin on one side, while there was a very modern shower cubicle in the other. Continuing on, she passed several open doors, guest rooms, one that had probably been his son's, and found what was most definitely the master bedroom. The furniture was antique and heavy, the bed covered in a dark blue duvet that looked thick and inviting. There was a dark wooden valet and a heavy dresser, and the wooden floor was covered with a lovely oriental carpet. Yes, she decided, as she set her bag down on the bench at the foot of the bed, it was an easy choice, not that she hadn't decided before she came.

 

When she came down, he led her to the table and held the chair for her. The lights had been turned down and the candles lit. "Wine?" Rum asked as he reached for the bottle cradled in a silver holder on the table.

"Yes, please," she said looking at the plate before her, a lovely endive salad.

"I am not at all responsible for the food, by the way.  I told you, I'm no cook," he warned. "But I've eaten there many times and the food is excellent."

Dinner was lovely, even more so for the company. As always, she found Rum easy to talk to and they discussed books, movies, and of course, the library, while they held hands and ate. She had been a little concerned by the kittens. His house was full of beautiful things, many of them breakable, but they had not heard any sounds and of course, the smell of the lamb had drawn them to join them in the dining room, asking in their feline way for their own portions. After dinner, they went into the other room with their wine. He had turned on the public radio station which was playing a program of classical music as well as counting down to midnight and they curled up on the settee before the fire to enjoy wine and one another.


	2. The Stroke of Midnight

Outside, in Storybrooke, people were celebrating the coming of the New Year with drink and dancing, but inside the pink house, it was quiet. The two kittens, full of lamb and content in the location of their two favourite people, had found the fleece bed before the fire and curled up together until they looked like one black furry lump. But on the settee, Belle was wrapped around Rum, the glass of wine forgotten on the table as they kissed, slowly, as if they were the only two people in the world. By the time the announcer on the radio tuned into the national countdown, they were both in disarray. Belle had lost her beautiful green pumps, her hair falling from its pins, and her lips swollen with kisses, while she had managed to unbutton the brocade vest and started in on the black shirt, curling herself contentedly against his warm chest almost like one of the kittens.

"Oh, I should get the champagne," he said, carefully and regretfully extracting himself from his beloved's arms. He needed a few moments to pull himself together.

"Champagne? Are you trying to get me tipsy?" Belle teased.

"I?" he asked, trying to look innocent. It wasn't a look that had worked on him when he was young, it certainly wasn't going to work now, but Belle laughed, and that was a sound which brought joy to his heart. He hurried into the kitchen to find the glasses and the champagne. They needed this, he reminded himself. Thus far things had been going well, but he didn't want to rush her. He needed a break, a breath of fresh air, to get himself back under control. Kissing Belle was like a miracle and he didn't want to spoil anything. Not that they hadn't both been enjoying themselves, as their current rumpled state attested to. Rum slipped off the brocade vest that she had diligently unbuttoned while he was distracted with her mouth, and dropped it over the chair, resisting his impulse to button up his shirt again. After so long, it was hard to allow himself to let go, to let himself be seen in less that perfect dress, but with Belle he was trying, especially remembering that there was at least a possibility that he would end up wearing a good deal less with her.

He pulled out the bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and gathered the crystal glasses, along with a bowl of strawberries covered in dark chocolate that he had found was her favourite, and slipped them on a silver tray that had been gathering dust in the back of the pantry until he had started planning this evening. Back in the lounge, he couldn't help but stop and stare. Belle was leaning back against the arm of the settee, her hair hanging down over one shoulder where he had managed to release it from its pins and smiling at him in a way that made him want to skip the formalities and take her and the tray upstairs to his bedroom, and never let her go.

"Oh, Rum, what have you..."

"Champagne and strawberries," he said, getting his voice back. Carefully he placed the tray on the table, and distracted himself with the operation of opening the bottle. The sound of the cork roused both of the kittens, who instantly ran off to find out where the flying thing had gone, while he poured them both a glass.

"Ten...nine..eight..." the announcer was counting down. Belle unfolded herself from the settee to stand beside him and accept a glass. "Seven...six...five...four." She slipped an arm around him and pulled closer. "Three...two...one. Happy New Year!" the radio announcer said as their lips met.

"To the New Year," he said as they broke apart and clinked their glasses together.

"The New Year, and beginnings," Belle said, her voice slightly husky.

"And what would you like to begin your new year with?" he asked, only realising after exactly how it sounded, but Belle didn't seem to mind.

"You," she answered, certainly. "What about you?"

"Belle, I want nothing more right now that to drag you upstairs with me. I want to feed you strawberries and taste them on your lips. I want to undress you and kiss every part of your body until I know you better than I know myself. But I need to know that this is what you want. If you want to wait..." he started, but she pressed her lips to his, cutting him off before slipping away from him.

It wasn't the first time she had run up against his self worth issues. For a man who most of the town ran in fear of, when it came to her, he was careful, gentle, and perhaps a bit shy. He hadn't talked a lot about his ex, but from the things he had let slip, Belle was certain of exactly what kind of woman she was, and most certainly didn't deserve the man before her. "I thought I made myself clear, but I like your plan. Why don't we just take this upstairs then?" she said boldly, backing towards the stairs, her glass still in her hand. "Bring the strawberries."

Rum followed as fast as his bad leg would carry him, stopping only to set his glass back on the tray and bring the whole thing. He thought vaguely about where the kittens had gotten to. They had been chasing the cork, but he reasoned that they could find all the important things, and right now, he had much more interesting things to do himself.

Upstairs, he made his way to his bedroom. The door was open a crack, and as he looked in, he saw that the lights were out, and Belle had lit the candles, the entire room glowing golden with it. Then his eyes fell on her. She had settled herself in the middle of his big bed with an inviting smile on her lips. He didn't need any further invitation. New beginnings indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this. Now, I will let you all in on why the rush. I signed up to write a story for a Valentine's Day contest on a FB group I belong to, and the idea I had was related to this 'verse. The deadline is tomorrow, (and yeah, I thought it was next week, but it's been a rough week). So, I had to get this out there, so that I could get the next part, Not So Secret Valentine's Day ready to submit tomorrow. So, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope that you will enjoy the following part, which has a bit more plot to it. So, enjoy, review, and all those things.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had hoped to get this finished earlier. In fact, I hoped to get it done in one shot, but life...well, it happens. Hope you enjoy it. I decided to continue it, even though it's late because I have a Valentine's Day story to write for a contest, and well, it's a follow up to this. Enjoy and please comment.
> 
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> 
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> 
> Next-- the stroke of Midnight


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